


Sugar, Pink, Pop!

by mothergoose



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, Fluff, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pretty things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 23:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2560337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothergoose/pseuds/mothergoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Carlos watched Cecil out of the corner of his eye, following his boyfriend’s deft fingers as they rummaged through a small make-up bag, the contents half spilling out on the comforter below. It was still early enough in the morning that the other was blinking sleep out of his eyes as he perused the various pinks, reds, and purples before settling on a plum colored lip stain. The scientist stared, wondering how that color might look on his own lips, before he chased the thought away."</p><p>Based off of inbarfink's headcannon on Nightvale Community Fanon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar, Pink, Pop!

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of inbarfink's headcannon: "Carlos has been always interested in traditionally girly things like dresses and makeup - but he’s always been too scared of what people will say to go ahead and wear them. But now he’s in Night Vale, where nobody cares about that sort of thing. Cecil has already helped him pick up a bunch of new pretty dresses."

Carlos watched Cecil out of the corner of his eye, following his boyfriend’s deft fingers as they rummaged through a small make-up bag, the contents half spilling out on the comforter below. It was still early enough in the morning that the other was blinking sleep out of his eyes as he perused the various pinks, reds, and purples before settling on a plum colored lip stain. The scientist stared, wondering how that color might look on his own lips, before he chased the thought away. 

'Boys don't wear makeup, Carlito!' he reminded himself, taking on the words of his mother. He ignored the obvious, that there was indeed a man that wears makeup with pride and no shame. In fact, Carlos had commented on more than one occasion how pretty Cecil looked with it, but bit his tongue when he wanted to say 'But the green eye shadow might have been a better idea.' No, boys did not wear makeup but, here, in Nightvale, they did. He sighed and tried to focus on getting ready. As he turned back to the pile of pastel colored flannel shirts he owned, picking through a gentle yellow one and a cool looking mint one, Carlos couldn’t help but dare to look out the corner of his eye again.

Cecil had moved on to his hair, keeping it back with an jeweled hair clip, the rubies flashing in the terrifying light of dawn. The other unconsciously reached for his own hair, twirling strands between his fingers. 'But you're a boy.' His mother's words came back and he instantly froze back up.

Carlos remembered how it had felt coming out to his parents. They weren't particularly overjoyed with him being gay but they tolerated it well enough. He didn’t mention it, they didn’t mention it, and that was that. Still Carlos felt stifled and unsure of himself. Makeup shops and pretty clothes at the malls had always caught his eye and he wondered about it. Even his sister’s things didn’t escape his interest, in particular her favorite lip gloss. It had been a lovely shade of coral and he had yearned to just try it on, always thinking how nice it would be to wear Rosa’s daisy print dress and to paint his nails blue. The day Carlos' mother had found him trying on his sister's lip gloss was a day of infamy in the Ramirez household. To this day, Carlos would swear up and down that the walls shook, the china in the cabinet trembled, and the water froze up in the pipes, just as Carlos had when his mother opened the bathroom door. She had absolutely exploded and swearing in colorfully in Spanish. Mrs. Ramirez had all but screeched "Boys don't wear makeup, Carlito!" at Carlos’ protests, while his father had shook his head and gone back to his paper, sad shame in his eyes. Hot embarrassment had mixed with cold fear in Carlos’ gut and he had, shaking and crying, taken his mother’s wrath. For Carlos, makeup had been tainted with those emotions, a physical embodiment of how wrong he felt. 

That is, until he met Cecil.

Cecil, who wore dapper vests and sharp collared shirts to work. Cecil, who wore bright, pastel, snakeskin rain boots and Hello Kitty earrings on the weekend. Cecil, who could apply eyeliner just as easily as he loaded his combat shotgun with buckshot. Cecil, who had been so flamboyantly open about his love for Carlos, his love for his town, and his love for his own life. Carlos both envied and admired the level of confidence his boyfriend could exert at times.

"Yes?" 

Carlos jumped as he was pulled out of his revere, Cecil's soft amethyst eyes trained on him. He was slipping a ruby earring into his ear, the familiar gesture soothing to his partner. Flushing a bright red, Carlos mumbled, “It’s… nothing”, avoiding that impenetrable gaze.

It was queer how Cecil knew when the the scientist was off doing something dangerous, where he was doing it, and possibly why. He could do it with everyone. This ability of his made him a great reporter, but made lying to him much harder. And as Carlos began picking through his drawer again, he could feel the other’s staring and knew Cecil knew something was upsetting Carlos. He always knew. 

“Carlos.”

Carlos ignored Cecil, half-heartedly picking out the mint green shirt. He could do this. He could ignore the problem, just like his parents ignored his boyfriends, and everything would be ok and he wouldn’t feel weird or wrong or upset. Carlos was good at ignoring things. 

But while Carlos could ignore and forget, Cecil could be stubborn. 

“Carlos, please look at me.”

The way he said it killed Carlos’ resolve. Dread creeping in his belly, he turned to Cecil and found his partner smiling worriedly at him. Cecil patted the bed sheets beside him, having cleared the cosmetics back into their bag. Walking stiffly, the scientist approached the other and was taken off guard when Cecil reached up and pulled him a bit closer. Carlos still looked awkward and Cecil patted the spread again. The other glanced around as though searching for the piercing eyes of his mother, intruding in on what Carlos could only feel was a conspiracy against her. He sat, choosing to press closer to Cecil for a bit of comfort. 

The radio host pressed his hand into the scientist’s, nails painted a tint of orange. Briefly, Carlos’ mind registered that it was Cecil’s third favorite color, after razzmatazz and caput mortuum, before he realized that his boyfriend was speaking.

“Is something the matter, Carlos?” His brows were scrunched up in concern, lips pouting a bit. Cecil’s concerned face was one of the few things that could make Carlos break in a matter of seconds. But this time was different. 

Biting his lip, Carlos found his gaze drawn back to the shiny, silver bag of makeup sitting next to Cecil’s leg. Cecil followed it before Carlos could move. 

He turned his attention back to the scientist. “Is it my makeup? Do you not like?”

“No…” fumbling at Cecil’s confused look, Carlos sputtered, “No! I mean, it’s fine, you look fine, it’s…nothing.” He sighed. His eyes returned to their hands, tracing the small cuts on Cecil’s thumb. But the other suddenly removed his hand, cupping the scientist’s face and Carlos knew Cecil knew. 

“Do you...want to try some on?”

Carlos tried diligently to continue staring at his clenched hands but they blurred too quickly. His chin trembled and he refused to look up at Cecil when the other took a sharp breath.

“Oh honey…” Cecil hugged him and Carlos buried his face in fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt. He smelled like the cheap detergent they bought from the Ralph’s. “Please don’t cry…” Carlos hiccuped in response. 

They sat like that for a few seconds, Cecil running his fingers soothingly through Carlos’ hair, Carlos scrambling to pick up his abrupt emotions, trying to stuff them back in head. Pulling away for a moment, Cecil reached on to his nightstand and snagged a tissue, before returning to mop the tears from Carlos’ face. He handed a second tissue to Carlos and the other blew his nose, mumbling a soft “Thank you.”

“Use your words, my love,” Cecil encouraged. Carlos’ chin trembled again, but he felt he should press on. 

Hoarsely, he said, “I’m scared…and….” The radio host smiled softly, squeezing his hand. “...Embarassed.” A couple stray tears escaped down his cheeks and Cecil brushed them away, cupping his face. 

“Because you like my makeup?” he prompted and Carlos bit his lip in anxiety. He nodded, not trusting his voice. 

Cecil hugged him again and sighed. Carlos could feel Cecil’s lips move as he spoke. “You’d look beautiful, you know. Everybody would think you’d look beautiful.” He moved again, touching his nose to Carlos’, lavender eyes filling Carlos’ vision. They looked so sincere and full of love. “We can always take it off, if you decide not wear it.” 

The scientist wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, dredging up old courage. Licking his lips, Carlos opened his and asked, voice barely a whisper, “Can I...try?”

Cecil smiled.  
__________

Carlos stared in awe at himself in the mirror, the tiny curtain pulled aside. Cecil had shooed him into the bathroom to look at himself in the small mirror once the radio host was done. 

Soft pastel pinks and whites framed his eyes and made the amber irises sparkle and pop. Rosy blush adorned his high cheek bones, softening his features. Sugar pink lipstick completed his makeover and Carlos couldn’t help but purse his lips this way and that just to watch how pretty it made him. He kept tracing his face with feather light touches, careful of smudging Cecil’s work. After a minute or so of just staring, Carlos let a giddy smile fall onto his face and it just grew wider once he saw how lovely he looked when he smiled. Perfection may not be real, but Cecil had managed to get him close to it. 

Pulling the curtain firmly back into place over the mirror, the scientist practically pranced back into their bedroom, only to scramble when he saw the time on the clock. It flashed EGGS in bright red letters, so clearly Carlos would be late if he didn’t hurry soon. He changed quickly, throwing on the bright, canary-yellow shirt before heading to the front foyer. At the sight of the front door, he froze. ‘What if everyone stares at me? Like I’m sort of weirdo?’ the thought flashed into Carlos’ mind before he could stop it. Thankfully, his logistical side took over. ‘You just saw a man completely on fire yesterday, pushing his equally burning child on the playground swing. No one will think you odd,’ he reasoned. Carlos took a deep breath and leaned down to pull his sneakers on. 

“Wait,” Cecil’s voice trailed after the him, as the radio host entered the room, a pair of simple satin pumps in his hand. He hesitantly placed them near Carlos’ feet and met the other’s eyes. Cecil coughed. “I bought these at Payless in the wrong size but when I went to return them, Payless had disintegrated into a large pile of steaming mud. If they were going out of business, I think I should have gotten a discount,” the radio host huffed and continued more gently, “...but they’re in your size. If you’d like.”

Carlos slipped his sneakers off and, with a bit of steadying on Cecil’s part, pulled the pumps on. They scrunched up his toes a bit and he wobbled when he stepped towards Cecil but Carlos felt that shy giddiness come back in an instant. With the extra heel, Carlos’ realized he could kiss his taller boyfriend properly. And that’s exactly what he did. 

__________

Carlos watched Cecil out of the corner of his eye, following his boyfriend’s deft fingers as they rummaged through a small make-up bag, the contents half spilling out on the comforter below. It was still early enough in the morning that the other was blinking sleep out of his eyes as he perused the various pinks, reds, and purples before settling on lime green eyeshadow that clashed with his red and white striped tie. The scientist smiled and turned to his own clothes. As he tapped a blue lacquered finger nail to his lips he wondered if he should wear his new red dress or those purple pants Cecil liked so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Carlos' makeup is based off of Goddess in Green's design, found here:  
> http://goddess-in-green.tumblr.com/image/76301168202
> 
> The curtain/mirror idea is Oxytrezart's. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
